


A Day Off

by Emachinescat



Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon
Genre: Bromance, Family, Gen, Joe Whump, Mystery, Revenge, Suspense, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-09
Updated: 2007-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two overworked teenage detectives plus one epically cool water park plus one crazed enemy out for revenge equals A Day Off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fun, Games, and... Revenge?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own "The Hardy Boys." 
> 
> This is an old story, written in 2006-2007, so the standard disclaimer applies: although I think it's a pretty good little story, my writing has improved much since then! :)

"What's up, Dad?" handsome, seventeen year old Joe Hardy inquired eagerly. He brushed a stray lock of wavy blonde hair out of his bright blue eyes, which were shining with anticipation.

"Yeah, you said you had something important to talk to us about," Joe's brother, Frank Hardy put in. His alluring brown eyes were more serious than Joe's; his dark brown hair just as attractive. At one year older than his energetic brother, Frank was more serious and a bit more calm, although every bit as attractive.

Fenton Hardy smiled at his sons. He was an older version of Frank, with deep brown eyes and dark hair; yet his was sprinkled with gray. Fenton was an internationally acclaimed detective, and his sons were following in his footsteps. They had already solved more cases than he could count, and he was extremely proud of his sons; yet he felt that they might have been working too hard lately, and that was what caused this "emergency meeting" in his second floor study.

"You boys have been doing an awesome job in your detective work," he began, bringing dazzling smiles from both of his sons. He smiled proudly, then continued, "But it seems to me that it has been all work lately and no fun."

"But Dad—" Joe began to protest, but Fenton held up a hand.

"Just listen. I think it would be great for you boys to take a day off. In fact…Joe had mentioned a few weeks ago that he would like to visit the new theme park, ThunderWorld, that's only a few hours away. What do you guys think about spending a few days in a nearby hotel—just the two of you—and hanging out at the park?"

Joe grinned, his sapphire eyes dancing. "Dad, are you serious? That's awesome!"

Frank frowned. "But Dad, what if a case comes up?"

Fenton shrugged off the comment and said, "I'll take care of it. I want you guys to have some fun. Who knows…maybe your old man scored some ThunderWorld tickets for two lovely young ladies as well."

This caught Frank's interest. "You mean, Callie and Vanessa can come too?"

Fenton nodded. "Actually, your mother and I have it all set up. You're to stay at the Grand Hotel from Tuesday—that's tomorrow—until Saturday. We're paying for the hotel and the tickets, but you guys'll have to buy your own food. The girls are coming up to the park Wednesday and staying the day there. They have to come home Wednesday night, though, because Vanessa has a cookout with her family Thursday and Callie's grandparents are coming into town."

Joe jumped up, grinning from ear to ear. "You rock, Dad!" he crowed.

Frank was still skeptical. "Dad, are you sure?"

Fenton frowned. "Frank. Son. Please. Just have some fun."

"Yeah, c'mon, bro," Joe prodded. "It's been so long since you've been anywhere fun you've forgotten what it means."

Frank smiled and got up. "I don't know, Joe. Doesn't tickling your little brother until he dies of laughter count as fun?"

Joe backed away slowly, face reddening. "No, it doesn't," he sputtered. "But I am not ticklish."

"Oh yeah?" And with that, Frank raced toward Joe, who had already sprung down half of the steps.

Fenton chuckled. He knew this vacation would be good for the boys. They needed it.

* * *

"Dad, are you sure everything will be okay?" Frank asked for the zillionth time that morning.

Fenton chuckled. "Wow, this is bad," he joked. "My own son thinks that I, Fenton Hardy, Private Investigator Extraordinaire, cannot handle myself for five days."

Joe laughed. "Shame on you, Frank!"

Frank flushed but said nothing. Fenton grinned. "Look, we'll be fine."

"Yes," fair haired, blue eyed Laura Hardy, the boys' mother, agreed. "Don't worry."

"Trust me," Fenton said. "You need this." He glanced at Joe, amused, when he saw his younger son bouncing up and down in the drivers' seat, occasionally honking the horn in impatience. "In fact, the only thing to worry about is handling your brother. I have only one order: have fun."

"Okay, Dad. Love you, Mom. Bye!"

Joe said his goodbyes as quickly as possible. Frank then shoved Joe out of the drivers' seat and got in himself. Then they were off.

Frank glanced at Joe as they rode along. Seeing a pout on his brother's face, Frank asked, "What's up, Joe?"

"I wanted to drive," Joe whined.

Frank had to laugh at his brother's absurd behavior. "Oh, come on, Joe. You're too hyper to drive. You'd kill us both if you drove."

Joe didn't answer. Soon, however, he became bored of sulking and was fiddling with the radio.

"Joe, please just settle on a station!" Frank complained.

"Frank, I don't know what to choose! Country or pop? Or rock? Or oldies? Or that weird opera crap we just passed up? Or the news?"

Frank chuckled. "Just choose something."

Finally, after a few hours, the boys arrived at the Grand Hotel. After checking in, Joe claimed he was hungry.

"Big surprise there," Frank muttered sarcastically. Joe stuck out his tongue. "Okay, the park opens at ten," Frank stated matter-of-factly. "It's 9:45 right now. Let's get in, then eat breakfast there, okay?"

Joe agreed.

Once inside ThunderWorld, Joe forgot all about his hunger when he saw all the rides. He raced to the nearest roller coaster, The Twist and Shout. Its highest elevation was over sixty feet, and consisted of four other hills and five loops. Frank hurried after him.

After riding it four more times, the boys went on to some other coasters. Then they had lunch. After that, it was getting warm out, so they rode some water rides.

"Oh, crap, I'm soaked!" Frank gasped as he and Joe exited the Rapid Rampage.

Joe laughed. "Whoa, you really got nailed."

Thankfully, they were dry by the time the park was closing. As they were gathering their things together, Frank said, "You know, this has been really fun."

"Yeah. Can't wait 'til the girls get here tomorrow."

Frank agreed. Almost everyone had left the park, and it was getting dark. "C'mon," Frank urged his brother. " _Vamanos_!"

"Huh?"

"It means come on. Didn't you pay attention in Spanish?"

"No."

Frank rolled his eyes. As they hurried to their van, Joe said, "Do you have the feeling that someone's watching us?"

Frank glanced around the empty parking lot uneasily. "There's nobody around, Joe. Come on, lets just get in the van." But just as they reached the vehicle, a black sedan pulled up and a man dressed in all black and a ski mask jumped out. The brothers instantly tensed. The man pulled out a gun and held it steadily on the two boys. Hardly daring to breathe, Frank asked, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" the man said in a harsh whisper. "I am someone who thirsts for revenge against your beloved father. And I shall have it. Each of you will pay for what he did to me—but the youngest goes first."

Frank, although frightened, moved in front of his little brother protectively. "Don't touch him!" he yelled.

Joe said defiantly, "What did our dad ever do to you?"

The man just growled and pulled out a roll of duck tape. He pulled off a large piece with one hand, using his teeth as well, his other hand still holding the gun trained on the boys, and walked forward. He pushed Frank aside and held the gun to Joe's temple. Frank froze.

"If you don't want your brother to die here and now," the man said in a low, threatening voice, "then I suggest you put your hands behind your back—slowly."

Frank gulped. He knew that if he let himself be captured, the man would take off with Joe—or he and Joe both, he realized. However, the man was pressing the gun harder into his brother's temple and his finger was on the trigger.

"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank whispered, and slowly put his hands behind his back. The man took his gun off of Joe for a moment and wrapped Frank's hands firmly behind him. Joe took this opportunity to attack the villain. The man had already sensed it coming, however, and swung around, hitting Joe hard in the side of the head. Joe fell to the ground, dazed.

The man then turned to Frank and shoved him down. He taped the boy's feet together, and put a piece of duck tape over his mouth. Last, he yanked the youth up and jostled him into the Hardys' van. "I'm sure someone will find you soon enough," he hissed, "but I will have my revenge. Don't worry, your turn will come soon enough. But first, I think Baby Brother needs to be taught a lesson." He laughed evilly and slammed the door to the van, leaving Frank in total darkness.

The youth instantly began struggling with his bonds, realizing that this man was going to take his brother away. Unable to escape, Frank did the next best thing and squinted out the window into the dingy night, watching to see which way the car would go.

Meanwhile, Joe was just regaining his senses when he felt a strong hand yank him to his feet. Joe struggled, but his movements ceased when a gun was pressed to his head. Joe's hands were taped behind him, and his ankles wrapped together as well. A piece of duck tape was put over his mouth, a bandanna over his eyes, and he was thrown into the trunk of the sedan.

Frank felt anger bubble up inside him as he witnessed the latter. He watched helplessly as the sedan pulled out of the lot and headed toward the park exit.

 

 


	2. Fear, Guilt, and Burgers

Joe, lying blindfolded, gagged, and bound hand and foot, could do nothing to prevent being tossed about in the tiny trunk as the kidnap car sped along. The captive let out a muffled gasp of pain as he was hurled into the left side of the trunk, then, as the sedan took a particularly sharp turn, was rammed into the front of his minute prison.

He couldn't remember much about what had happened after the man had hit him, other than the fact that Frank was tied up…and then what? Joe hoped whole-heartedly that his brother had not been taken as well, but had no assurance of that whatsoever. 'Either way,' the miserable boy said glumly to himself, 'if that punk took Frank, then he's not in the trunk with me. I can barely fit in here myself.'

Questions, troubles, and fear brewed around in the blonde boy's mind. Who was this man? What connection did he have with their father? And why was he so bent on this "revenge" business?

With a sickening feeling in his stomach, Joe wondered where the kidnapper was taking him, and what he planned to do when he got there. The young man had been the target of numerous fiends, most of which wanted revenge on Fenton, and some scrapes Joe had barely come out of alive. Why did this have to happen to him? 'And on my day off, nonetheless,' he thought bitterly.

Joe knew that he had to escape the first chance he got. Whether this man was mentally unbalanced like many of the foes he'd encountered, or had just been driven mad by rage, Joe couldn't stick around: both conditions were equally dangerous.

Joe hoped with all his heart that Frank hadn't been taken; for if he hadn't Frank would surely find him. If he had, however, Fenton would track them both down. But remembering what the kidnapper had said about the youngest going first, Joe figured he was alone, and the evil doer was going to torture Frank by worry for a while, before killing Joe himself. 'Not a very pleasant thought,' he muttered mentally.

A while later, the car came to a sudden stop and Joe was thrown violently against the side of the trunk. A few seconds later, he heard the trunk being opened. The kidnapper grabbed Joe and yanked him roughly from the car. He then pulled the duct tape from his captive's feet, and, putting one hand on the youth's shoulder to guide him, he used his free hand to shove a gun into the small of his back and ordered him to move forward. Unable to do anything else in his current position, Joe complied and walked shakily in the direction indicated by the man behind him.

Joe heard a door being unlocked and opened, then he was shoved into an unknown room. Oddly, Joe realized, the unknown room smelled of hotdogs and hamburgers. Heart filled with dread, anticipation, and fear, yet curiosity as well, the young captive waited for something to happen. A moment later, something did. And that something sent pain coursing throughout his body.

* * *

While Joe was being taken away, Frank sat bound and gagged in the front seat of the van, worry taking over his mind.

Who was that man and why did he want revenge on their father? And why take Joe? He knew the answer to that at once. 'Because he's the youngest,' Frank thought, 'and the kidnapper knows he can torment both Dad and me by hurting him.'

But the feeling that came almost as strongly as his anxiety was anger. Anger at the man for taking Joe. Anger at his father for even suggesting such a stupid idea as a day off. But the strongest surge of anger was at himself. 'How could I do that?' he thought, while futilely trying to escape from the duct tape that held him prisoner. 'How could I just let that man walk off with Joe? I've failed him. If anything happens to Joe, it'll be all my fault.' Although in a corner of his mind, he knew that he did what he had to do. If he hadn't, Joe would have been shot. He would never forgive himself for this.

Finally deciding that attempted escape would be absolutely pointless, Frank lay back, head pounding, heart racing, and worry coursing through his veins, and waited anxiously for dawn to come and someone to find him.

 


	3. Pain, Suffering, and Worry

Joe let out muffled gasps of agony as his captor began to beat him mercilessly; first several iron blows in the stomach, then he moved up to his face, and aimed several punches to the boy's eyes, cheeks, and nose. Finally, his rock-hard fist connected with Joe's jaw, and the captive slipped into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, he was still tied up, but the blindfold had been removed. He was lying flat on his back on a hard tile floor in what seemed to be a tiny storage closed of some sort. It was too dark to see what was on the shelves that lined three of the walls.

Joe groaned beneath the gag. His body ached from the beating. His right eye was swollen to the size of a large plum, his cheeks were bruised, and his nose bloody. He was sure that there were more abrasions where he had been punched in the stomach.

At that moment, a door opened in the far end of the closet, just a crack, and the kidnapper squeezed in. Joe realized he was still wearing the ski mask. "Hello, Joseph," he said in a mock pleasant voice. "It seems to me that we haven't had much of a chance to talk. So we will now." However, when the man made no move to removed Joe's gag, the prisoner figured that the villain himself was planning on doing most of the talking.

"First, let me say what a big fan I am of your dad's," the masked man said evilly. "After all, he sent me to jail for many long, lonely years. In fact, I would still be in that horrid place if I hadn't broken out a few weeks ago."

Joe felt his stomach clench slightly. 'A jail-breaker,' he thought distastefully. 'This guy is defiantly a tough outfit.'

"That's why I arranged this little rendezvous. I tapped into your phone line and heard you talking to your girlfriends about your trip to ThunderWorld. I formulated the perfect plan to get revenge on your father—a plan that is in process this very second, as I speak!" He laughed manically, and then went on.

"I bet you are wondering what's going to happen to you over the next few days," the man, whose voice was harsh and rough (Joe dubbed him 'Scratchy' because of the abrasive tone). Sounding elated, he went on. "Actually, my young friend, I have much planned for you. First, you will be alone during the day, but don't get any ideas of escaping—I am making sure there is no possible way out. Second, the fun begins later on. We're going to have a few beatings like tonight at first, but then, we'll get onto more serious things. Like scaring big brother. I have ways to torture you that you can't even imagine, kid." Joe felt his stomach do a triple flip. "Soon after that, you'll go for the ride of your life." He chuckled but offered no explanation for his previous statement.

Instead, he said, "It's getting close to dawn, so I really have to go. But first, let me make you a little more secure. He yanked Joe to his feet; the latter instantly began to struggle, but the man overpowered him. Soon Joe's feet were taped together again. He was leaning against one of the small shelves, his arms pulled around it, with his hands meeting at the back, and they were tied together with thick Nylon rope, and then reinforced with duct tape. Joe felt that this was a little over the top, but the masked fiend obviously wanted to take no chances in his captive getting loose. Several coils of rope wound around his chest and stomach, tying him securely to the shelf. The duct tape was removed, and a white tablet was forced into his mouth. Joe was made to drink some water, and just a few seconds later, he slumped into unconsciousness.

* * *

The sun slowly rose and Frank's heart leapt as he saw a tram, driven by a ThunderWorld security guard, pull up beside the parking lot. The guard jumped out of his vehicle and stared in surprise at the Hardys' van.

He approached the vehicle, ready to find out what the deal was with this van being here hours before opening time—but when he saw the young man tied up in the front seat, his attitude changed and he rushed to the van and pried open the door. He removed the gag from the youth's mouth, and before he could do or say anything, the kid said hoarsely, "They took my brother!"

As the guard proceeded to untie Frank's hands and feet, the young man told him who he was an informed him of the kidnapping.

"I'll call police headquarters immediately," he assured Frank.

Frank called his father and told him the bad news. Fenton told him that he would be at their hotel as soon as possible.

In the meantime, Frank resolved to look for clues to his brother's whereabouts. Frank didn't know who had taken his brother, but he knew he had to find Joe—before it was too late.

 


	4. Mary, Chuck, and Sammy

The first thing Joe noticed when he regained his senses were the voices. They were numerous and loud, happy and full of laughter. He shook his pounding head, not even bothering to open his eyes, and tried to block them out. They couldn't be real, he decided. No kidnapper would keep his captive this close to a crowd this size. However, when the voices didn't disappear, Joe realized the truth-he was being held near a large group of people.

'That's why he put so much effort into tying me up,' Joe realized. 'And why he drugged me.'

His mind was still very sluggish from the drug, and he had to force himself to open his eyes. He was in the same position that he had been in when he was drugged; the pain was still there, only this time it was intensified by the aching of his neck that was a result of his forced slumber.

Trying to clear his fog-filled mind, Joe tried to figure out where he was. He focused on the voices, trying to pick out on in particular, to see if they said anything that would give him a clue to where he was. But at that moment, he heard the kidnapper's voice from outside of his small prison. "Yeah, Mary, I'll be right there. Gotta check on something in the back. No, no, Mary, you know my supply closet is off-limits...I'll get it." Then the door was opened a crack and the kidnapper stepped in, this time unmasked. Joe stared. He knew he had seen this man before-he was sure he had in his father's files at one point, but he knew he had seen him, in person.

He was bald, with cold blue eyes and a sinister smile. His chin was strong and firm. As the kidnapper advanced on Joe, the captive realized where he was being held. He struggled against his bonds, and his captor laughed evilly, pulling a bottle out of his pocket and popping two white pills into his hand. He ripped the duct tape off and Joe instantly began to cry, "Help!"

The man quickly covered his mouth and hissed, "So...you know where you're being held, don't you? We'll talk more about this tonight, but I will tell you this. My theory is that if you hide something someone is looking for in plain sight, it won't be found. So, yeah, I'm hiding you in Red's, the fifty's restaurant in ThunderWorld. No one ever comes back here, and no one would dream of looking for you here, so-"

"Hey, Chuck, what about those hamburgers?" came a voice from the front.

"Yeah, yeah, Mary," Chuck answered loudly. "I'm comin'!" He quickly pulled his hand away from Joe's mouth, and before the boy could react, he jammed the pills into his mouth and Joe was made to swallow them. The last thing he heard before he faded into unconsciousness once more was Chuck chortling evilly and saying, "Sleep well..." Then darkness consumed him once more.

* * *

Frank's leg bounced up and down in anticipation as he sat in a hard chair at the local police department, waiting for his father to arrive. He remembered his father's words exactly: "Frank, I'll be over within two hours. Just go to the police department and I'll meet you there."

It had been almost two hours, and Frank was getting impatient. He hated just sitting here while his brother was in danger. He got up and began to pace just as the door opened and Fenton Hardy rushed in. Frank ran to him as he asked, "Frank, any news?"

Frank shook his head sadly. "No, Dad. Do you know who his kidnapper might be?"

Before Fenton could answer, the Police Chief, a big bear of a man with friendly brown eyes and a full head of unruly dark hair, now spotted with gray, came up to the Hardys.

"Ah. Fenton Hardy," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Sammy Brown, Chief of Police. I've already met your son Frank here."

"Ah...hello," Fenton greeted him.

"I'm sorry about your son," Chief Brown informed Fenton. "We are already investigating. Of course, I'm sure you and Frank will do everything in your power to find Joe as well."

"Of course. We'll keep you updated, if you'll do the same."

Chief Brown smiled wanly. "Will do."

"If you don't need us for anything, Frank and I are going back to the hotel for-"

Frank interrupted, "But Dad, we've got to-"

"Son, hold on. I want to know everything that happened, and I also need a place to go through my files. I'm still trying to find someone who might be the culprit here."

"I don't have to go, Dad!" Frank insisted. "The scene of the kidnapping was roped off. Let me go and do some investigating before the police start snooping around more than they already are."

Fenton nodded. "Tell you what. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

Frank agreed, and father and son went separate ways, both hoping and praying for the safe return of Joe.

 


	5. Two Officers and an Alias

Frank arrived at the crime scene a few minutes after he and his father departed. The entire parking lot was blocked off, and Frank realized that this must have caused great controversy between the park visitors and employees, because the park was especially packed that day. With an entire parking lot blocked off, all the spaces were filled up. As he was walking toward the kidnap sight, a light blue Mustang pulled up beside him and a girl of about nineteen stuck her head out of the window and yelled, "Hey!" Frank turned and walked quickly to the car.

"Can I help you?" he asked, willing his impatience to look for clues not to get the better of him.

"Yeah," she said, pushing her bleached blonde hair out of her deep blue eyes. "What's with this parking lot? Why's it blocked off? There's like no place to park out here!"

"There was a kidnapping here last night," he informed her hastily. Her eyes grew wide.

"A kidnapping?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. My brother."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she squealed. "What does he look like?"

"Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tan skin, muscular," Frank informed her.

"Sounds hot," the girl murmured to herself. Frank looked at her, annoyed.

"What?"

"Sorry," she apologized, blushing. "I was just thinking to myself. I'll keep an eye out for him."

"Great," Frank said heavily. "Thanks." The girl grinned and drove off. Frank began his trek across the parking lot. Two officers were standing next to the Hardys' van, which had remained untouched in case it held any evidence.

"Hey, kid!" one of them said when Frank was within earshot. "This area is closed. It's a crime scene."

"I know," Frank said, when he was standing in front of the officers. "A kidnapping. My brother was taken. I'm Frank Hardy," he introduced himself.

"Ah, Mr. Hardy, Chief Brown said you might be around. Can we help you?"

"Actually, I was hoping to look around for clues."

The officers looked at each other and shrugged. "Have at it, Frank, but don't expect much. We've been scouting this place all day, and haven't seen anything suspicious."

"Well, it never hurts to go over it again," Frank said, and with that, he began his inspection of every inch of the parking lot, searching for anything out of place. When he was near the edge of the lot, he noticed something white fluttering in the breeze. The youth bent to pick up the scrap of paper, and realized it had something written on it. 'ThunderWorld Empl…' was all Frank could make out, but it proved to be enough. He hurried over to the officers and said, "Look at this. The kidnapper passed by the exact spot this was found. It's an employee card."

"So it is," one of the officers stated.

"Do you think Joe could have been taken by one of the staff?" he asked.

"Well…it does look suspicious, but this could have been there before."

"I suppose," Frank said, "but it's the only lead we've got. I'm going to call Dad and get him out here. If he thinks we should follow up on it, we'll head out to the amusement park and ask around. Maybe he's being held there."

* * *

Joe awoke groggily to someone shaking his shoulder. Head pounding, he opened his eyes slowly and saw his kidnapper leaning over him, evil glint in his eyes. "Hello, Joseph. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but I have a job, you know." He snickered. "Actually, I never would have been able to plot my revenge like this if I hadn't found out you were coming here and used an alias "Chuck" to get a job here. As an employee, I have a key to the park and have it to myself at night. So. I think it's time we have a little more fun."

Joe struggled feebly to free himself and "Chuck" snickered. "No worries, Joey," he said. "I'm gonna untie you." He took his knife and sliced through the bindings keeping Joe's wrists together, making sure he sliced off some skin as well, making Joe wince in pain, and then he did the same with his feet. Without bothering to remove the gag, Chuck pulled his fist back and slammed Joe in the stomach. The boy gasped in pain, and before he could do anything to prevent it, all he knew was the pain as Chuck's rock hard fist slammed into his stomach again…and again…and again…soon darkness welcomed him into its clutches, and Joe knew no more.


	6. An Employee and an Escapee

Fenton was going through his files when his cell phone went off. "Hello?" he said distractedly.

 _'Hey, Dad!'_ came Frank's voice from the other line.

Fenton jumped up and began pacing as he spoke with his son. "Frank? Have you found anything?"

_'I think so, Dad. We found part of an employee card where Joe was kidnapped. I have a hunch that the kidnapper might be an employee. Joe could even be somewhere inside the park.'_

"Okay, Frank, I'll be out there in just a few minutes!" Fenton promised. "Stay right there. We'll go into the park and start asking around, see if we can find someone who might know where Joe is."

_'Okay, Dad. By the way, something really odd happened. This girl stopped and asked me why the lot was closed. When she asked me what happened, I told her that my brother had been kidnapped and gave her a description of him. She said he sounded hot—then promised to keep an eye out for him.'_

To Frank's surprise, Fenton chuckled.  _'What's so funny?'_ he demanded.

"Frank, son," Fenton said, "that's just a girl for you. Listen, I honestly think that young lady has nothing to do with Joe's disappearance. If you ask me, she was just a ditsy blonde on her way to have fun at an amusement park."

Frank laughed slightly.  _'Yeah, I guess.'_

"I'll be there right away, son," Fenton promised. Frank said good-bye, then they hung up.

Fenton grabbed his keys and hastened to the front door. Right as he was about to open it, he heard a knock. Surprised, Fenton opened the door to see two smiling faces. "Oh, hi, Mr. Hardy," Vanessa said, sounding slightly surprised. "We didn't know you were here."

Fenton could have kicked himself. He had completely forgotten that Vanessa and Callie were supposed to come over that day. Being in such a rush to get to the boys, and trying to reassure Laura, it had totally slipped his mind that the girls were even in the general vicinity, let alone expecting to spend a fun-filled day with Frank and Joe.

"Yeah," Callie agreed. "The guys told us it would be just us and them—but that's totally fine," she added quickly. "You're cool to hang out with." She paused, looking at her boyfriend's father carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"Girls, I am so sorry, but this isn't turning out to be the vacation the boys planned," Fenton said heavily.

"Why—what happened?" Vanessa asked anxiously.

"Tell you what—come with me to the amusement park—I'm meeting Frank there—and I'll tell you everything on the way." Once Fenton was at the wheel, with Vanessa in the passenger seat and Callie in the back, Fenton told the girls everything that had happened. Vanessa gasped and held back a sob. Fenton put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "He'll be fine, Vanessa," Fenton said, still trying to reassure himself.

The detective felt rather uncomfortable in his present situation. He was not sure how to go about comforting Vanessa and Callie, while still trying to calm himself as well. Finally he said, "Frank thinks he's picked up a lead—we have reason to believe that maybe the kidnapper is an employee at ThunderWorld and that Joe may be somewhere near the place—maybe even in the park."

They arrived at the parking lot to see Frank solemnly conversing with the two police officers. When he saw the car pull up, he rushed over to meet his father and the girls. "Callie! Vanessa!" he said in surprise. "I'm so sorry, I forgot you were supposed to be coming."

He gave Callie a quick peck on the cheek then put an arm around Vanessa's shoulder. Although the girl said nothing, Frank knew the emotional pain she was going through at the very moment. He himself was feeling it as well. "He'll be fine," he said. "We'll find him."

"Okay, son, do you have your passes? I suppose the girls will have to buy tickets to get in—"

The private investigator was cut off by one of the officers. "No need for that, Mr. Hardy. We'll accompany you to the entrance and let them know who you are and we'll get you in for free."

Soon Fenton, Frank, Callie, and Vanessa were inside the park. "Wow, this is really nice," Callie commented.

"It is big," Fenton agreed.

"You know, somehow it seemed much nicer yesterday," Frank said.

The foursome spent the entire morning talking to the employees. All denied that they had seen hide or hair of the blonde boy but promised to keep an eye out for him. The Hardys met no one they deemed suspicious.

Around 12:30, Fenton said, "We'd better stop somewhere and eat. Then we can continue our search."

They passed what looked like a fifty's restaurant. The sign on the door said, 'Red's'. "Let's stop here," Frank suggested, and the others agreed.

They strode up to the front desk. "Hi, Welcome to Red's!" the perky, blonde girl said, then grinned when she saw Frank. "I remember you!"

Frank was amazed as well. It was the girl he had met at the parking lot—the one that had deemed Joe "hot".

"I'm Mary," she introduced herself.

"I didn't know you worked here," Frank said, sensing that his girlfriend was monitoring his conversation with the girl. Frank said, mostly to calm Callie's nerves, "This is the girl I told you about, Dad—from this morning."

"Yeah, I do work here," Mary said. "Haven't seen any sign of your brother, though. And sorry if I freaked you out a little this morning. I just had my coffee and I was a little nutty. I just said the first thing that came to mind."

"Right," Frank said. He was about to say something else when a bald man with piercing blue eyes came to the front desk.

The blue eyes darkened momentarily when he laid his eyes on Fenton and Frank, but then he smiled, and the look went away. "Welcome to Red's!" he said in a cheery voice. "I'm Chuck! What can I get you?"

They ordered, then Frank said, "My brother has been kidnapped." He gave a description of Joe and was relieved to see that this man said nothing about Joe sounding hot.

"That's horrible!" the man gushed. "Insolent people! Your poor brother—John, right?"

"Erm…Joe."

"Of course. Yes. Well, I'll do anything in my power to help you find him. I hate the way people behave. Honestly! Taking someone else's brother…and son."

"Thanks," Frank said, then he and the other three sat down at a table.

"You know," said Fenton, munching on a French fry, "something seems oddly familiar about that man, but I can't place my finger on it."

* * *

Meanwhile, Joe was just coming to after his beating from Chuck over the evil man's last break when he thought he heard a familiar voice.

"…my brother's been kidnapped…"

Joe felt a sickening feeling creeping into his stomach. Frank was here. Looking for him. He was so close, Joe could hear him. Knowing that Frank was so near and hearing his brother's voice made the young captive more determined than he had ever been to break free from his bondage. He set to work, diligently working on the duct tape and rope that bound his hands by rubbing them against a sharp object that seemed to be protruding from the shelf. The young man had only one thought in his pounding head: 'I'm coming, Frank!'

 


	7. Gumbo and an Angry Chuck

Over two hours had passed when Joe finally worked the last of the duct tape off his wrists. He leaned against the shelf for a moment, exhausted. Joe had been weak ever since his first beating and was hungry and thirsty from not eating or drinking. However, he knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible.

He quickly pulled the tape from his ankles and ripped the gag from his mouth. Standing shakily on wavering legs, Joe leaned against the shelf once more until the familiar pins and needles sensation had disappeared.

The next issue was how to get out of the closet. He grinned when he saw that it locked from the outside. 'Another reason Chuck went to such measures to tie me up,' he thought. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, face, and the burning of his cut wrists, Joe walked forward and unlocked the door. He opened it a crack and when he saw no sign of his kidnapper, he tiptoed out and from behind the desk.

The blonde teenager at the front desk stared at him like he was an alien when she saw him begin to slink out the front door. He noticed her gaze and turned. "What?" he muttered.

"What happened to you?" the girl asked. "Hey, are you that hot guy?"

Joe didn't have time for this; he had to escape as quickly as possible. Despite the painful protests of his many abrasions, Joe hurried forward and stepped out into the evening sunlight.

"Frank, where are you?" he muttered to no one.

* * *

"Sorry, son, no one is allowed back here," a tall, gangly man with thin rimmed glasses and soft blue eyes said as he attempted to shoo Frank away from the roller coaster control room.

Frank refused to listen and said, "I only need to speak with you for a moment, Mr.…" he glanced at the nametag, "…Gumbo."

Mr. Gumbo sighed and glanced at the roller coaster filled with people waiting for their ride. "Is it extremely important?" he asked impatiently.

"Could be life or death," Frank retorted truthfully.

"Fine, speak up son, hurry."

"My brother has been kidnapped," Frank informed him and the man's blue eyes filled with shock and horror. He gave a full description of Joe, and queried, "Have you seen anyone like him? Or do you know anyone suspicious? Anyone who works here that might have a criminal record?"

Mr. Gumbo scratched his receding hairline thoughtfully. "Can't say that I have, son. Except…" he hesitated and stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

"Except what?"

"Well, I don't know if he's got a criminal record, but that Chuck seems kinda strange," he admitted.

Frank, beginning to feel excited, said, "He works at Red's, right?"

Mr. Gumbo nodded. "He just appeared out of nowhere. Said he needed a job. Now I don't really know if that's suspicious in itself, but, see, I'm real tight with the owner of this place—he's my sister's double fifth cousin on her aunt's brother's uncle's cousin's side four times removed," he said proudly.

Frank stared at him for a moment in bewilderment before shaking his head and saying, "That's great. But what about Chuck?"

"Well, my cousin told his uncle who told his brother who told his aunt who told—" Frank cut him off impatiently.

"I get it. What about Chuck?"

"Well…seems he had no background information. No one had a clue as to where he came from. He refused to tell anything about where he lived before."

"Well…isn't it against park policy to hire someone like that?" Frank asked doubtfully.

"He said he had a history in cooking," Mr. Gumbo shrugged. "We were in desperate need of a cook."

Frank glanced over to his father and the girls, who were waving frantically at him to hurry up. "Look," Frank said, "I've gotta go. But before I do, just tell me this: when did Chuck start working here?"

Chuck scratched his head and scrunched up his forehead and nose in an effort to think. "Well…I think he started on Monday."

Frank's heart skipped a beat. Monday? The day before Joe was kidnapped? Frank thanked Mr. Gumbo and quickly hurried over to his waiting father and friends.

"You were over there quite a long time," Fenton observed. "What did you find out?"

"Dad, I'm almost positive it was Chuck!" Frank burst out. He went on to relate the conversation with Mr. Gumbo, taking great care to leave out everything to do with his extended connection to the owner of the park.

"I knew something about him looked familiar!" Fenton burst out, anger written on his features.

"We've gotta do something!" Vanessa wailed.

"I know, I know," Frank said. "Dad, any ideas?"

Fenton nodded. "Let's go talk to Chuck. I want to get a better look at him—from what you've told me, this man is bent on revenge and that means he must be someone I've put in prison at some point—but he must be disguised and using an alias. After that, we'll decide what to do next—because we can't get him arrested unless we know for certain he did it—which we don't."

Frank nodded. "I guess that's the best we can do for now," he said glumly. "Let's go talk to Chuck.

As they were walking across the park towards Red's, Frank scanned the crowd absentmindedly. All of a sudden he let out a strangled cry and stopped. He was staring at a blonde youth stumbling about. He was in severe pain, there was no denying that. Bruises covered his face, but Frank couldn't tell anymore about his injuries from the twenty-five foot distance. But one thing he knew for sure. "Dad," Frank said weakly, "there's Joe!"

* * *

Joe stumbled through the pressing crowd; people kept shooting him odd and concerned looks, some even stopped and tried to speak with him, but he didn't care—all that mattered was finding Frank. He looked up and almost yelled in delight. There, straight ahead of him, was his brother, father, girlfriend, and Callie. He started to move toward them, but then heard an angry and surprised yell from the bathroom behind him. Before he knew what was happening, a hand grabbed him and yanked him into the bathroom. He looked into the blazing blue eyes of Chuck, who clapped a greasy hand over the youth's mouth and hissed, "How in blue blazes did you escape?" Without waiting for an answer, he swung Joe around and slammed his head into the concrete wall. Joe saw stars and then nothing.

Chuck glanced around, and making sure no one was around, he slipped out of the bathroom and down an alley that he knew led him to Joe's new hiding spot—the interior of the newest roller coaster, Phantom Fury, which wasn't opening until next fall. The place was off-limits and no one could go there. No one would go there. And no one would ever find his captive. And if they did, they surely wouldn't live to tell the tale.

 

 


	8. A Suspect and More Problems

Frank squinted at where he had last seen his brother. "Dad," he muttered apprehensively, "I don't see him."

"Maybe it wasn't him," Callie said shakily.

"No!" Frank protested. "It was. I know it was."

They hurried to the spot where they had last seen Joe. "He was here. I know it," Frank said, but seeing no sign of the missing boy, they returned to their trek to Red's.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Fenton reminded each of the teenagers with him that Chuck had no reason to suspect that they were suspicious of him, and not to let their emotions get the better of them, no matter what.

They sauntered up to the desk. "Welcome to Red's, can I help you?—oh hey, guys," Chuck said. Frank contained his anger and attempted to smile politely.

"Hey," he said.

"Found Josh yet?"

"It's Joe," Vanessa said curtly, convinced that these sudden "memory losses" were all an act and that Chuck was merely trying to cover up the fact that he was the kidnapper.

"Oh, right, of course," the man said, rubbing his bald head. He noticed Fenton's observant gaze. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

Fenton frowned. "No, I was just in another world," he muttered. He knew this man looked familiar—but why couldn't he place him? The private investigator was becoming very irritated with himself.

"Ah," Chuck said. "Sooo…what brings you guys back here to Red's?"

"We just wanted to eat dinner before we headed home for the night," Callie stated matter-of-factly.

"Good idea. You must really like it here."

"It's the greatest," Frank managed. "Really good."

"Cool. I'm glad you like it."

They talked for a while longer, trying to divulge any information possible from this man, but Chuck simply wouldn't say anything against himself. Finally Fenton stood up. "Well, thanks for the meal, Chuck. Here's your cash." He handed a twenty dollar bill to Chuck.

As the group walked out into the dusk, Chuck's eyes narrowed and he said in a throaty whisper, "They're getting too close. Way too close."

* * *

"That was very productive," Vanessa said sarcastically as the group headed for the park exit. The park was mostly empty by now, as it was five minutes until closing time.

"He was lying through his teeth," Frank said through his own gritted teeth.

"Yes. Listen, we'll head back to the hotel and—"

"No, Dad," Frank said firmly. "I'm going to go over to Red's and snoop some. I've already talked to a guard, and they're going to leave the gates open until I have time to search the place."

"No, Frank," Fenton protested. "If Chuck is anywhere around, you could be in serious danger."

"Dad, I'll be fine. There'll be a guard outside Red's. If anything happens, he'll know. Maybe I'll find some clue as to where to find Joe. You guys go on. I'll drive the van home—they're done searching it."

Fenton grudgingly agreed. "Just be careful, son."

Frank smiled wanly. "I will, Dad. I will."

* * *

Frank snuck behind the counter and began his thorough search of the many rooms that were lining the dim hallway. He came to a door that looked like it led to a closet of some kind. Frank flung open the door, and gasped as he flipped on the light.

Pieces of rope and duct tape hung on a small shelf. It looked as if they had been gradually cut away by a large nail protruding from the shelf. A piece of cloth lay nearby, along with some duct tape lying beside it—and there were droplets of blood sprinkled on the floor!

Frank's heart jumped as he realized that Joe had been here—his brother had been here the whole time! He had been so close, yet Frank had been unable to find him. A wave of guilt overcoming him, Frank rose and prepared to alert the guard of what he had just found. Before he could turn around, however, something heavy hit him on the head and he blacked out.

Chuck smiled evilly as he stared at the unconscious boy before him. "Perfect," he muttered. "Now big brother can watch little bro as he takes the ride of his life—to his death."

 


	9. Three Officers and an Unexpected Twist

Fenton Hardy's eyelids grew heavy as he went through his files for the third time that night. None of the criminals looked remotely like Chuck. 'Perhaps Frank was wrong,' he thought, sighing heavily. 'Perhaps we've been on the wrong lead the whole time." Suddenly, his heart seemed to leap in his chest. Frank! Where was he? Fenton had been so caught up in his work that he had forgotten about Frank. 'Surely he should be here by now,' Fenton mused. 'At least he would have called.'

A sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, Fenton stood up and grabbed the hotel phone. He dialed the police department, and after requesting to speak with the chief, Fenton paced the room while on hold, his mind spinning. He was already worried enough about Joe—was his other son missing now?

He was brought out of his thoughts by Chief Brown's voice on the other line. "Fenton Hardy? Is something wrong?"

"I think so, Chief," Fenton said heavily. "Has Frank contacted you recently?"

Fenton's heart sunk as the chief replied, "No. Why? Isn't he back yet?"

"No. It's been hours—he should've been back a long while back."

"Something must have happened," the chief stated. "I'll get some of my men to search the area thoroughly. In the meantime, you keep up your work. Maybe you'll get a breakthrough soon."

"I don't know," Fenton said doubtfully. "Nothing seems to be popping out at me."

"That may be true, but since Frank is now missing, we can be almost positive it is Chuck, considering Frank supposedly disappeared at Red's—where Chuck works."

"True," Fenton agreed. "I'll go through them again. Let me know if you find anything."

* * *

Cory Davis, Tim Adams, and Michael Strongson were the three men Chief Brown had sent to the park. As the three officers approached Red's, they were startled to see the police guard out cold. "I'll check on him," Tim said, "you two look for the kid."

The three officers began their thorough inspection of the restaurant, but to no avail. "He's not here," Michael reported. "Chuck must've taken him someplace else."

"But where?" Cory mused.

"I think I can help you," a voice said. Out of the shadows came Mary, the blonde girl from the restaurant! She held a gun in her hand, and was pointing it at the officers.

* * *

Fenton ran his hand through his hair. This just didn't make sense! He couldn't find anything that related to Chuck, and time was running short.

Just as he was going to pick up his cell phone to call the police department, to see if they had come up with anything, the phone rang.

"Yes?" he said gruffly into the phone.

"Fenton?" came the familiar voice of Sam Radley from the other end.

"Sam. Hi," Fenton said, pleased to hear his trusted friend's voice, despite the situation.

"I heard the boys went on a vacation. How's that going?"

Fenton suddenly realized that he hadn't let the police department in Bayport know where he was heading before he had rushed off. There was no way Sam could have known that Frank and Joe had been kidnapped.

Before Fenton had a chance to respond, Sam said, "Listen, I've been trying to call you for several days now, but seem to always miss you somehow. Did you know that Samson Black escaped from prison the other day?"

"What? He did? When?"

Sam revealed it to be the day right before Joe was kidnapped. Suddenly something clicked in Fenton's head. Ecstatic, he said hurriedly, "Sam, I'll have to call you back soon. Give Laura a call and she'll tell you what's going on. I've got to go!" He hung up, leaving Sam Radley very confused on the other line.

Fenton went back to his files and pulled up Samson Black's file. Fenton had put him in prison for kidnapping, murder, and the killings of three police officers the year Joe was born. The criminal had been sentenced to a lifetime of prison, with no chance of bail.

The detective realized that Black must have aged considerably through the years; now that he looked a bit closer, he realized that the man and Chuck had the same nose and mouth, although black had a full head of hair, a beard, and green eyes in the photo. 'However, if he wanted to be near me without letting me know who he really was, then he would have gone to extra measures to disguise himself.'

Black had apparently shaved all his hair and beard, and had used blue contacts to change his eye color. Fenton knew who had kidnapped his sons. But knowing that they were at the mercy of a ruthless killer made things much worse.

* * *

The three officers stared at the nineteen year old girl before them.

"What do you want?" Tim finally asked.

"You're looking for that Joe kid, right?" Mary said sharply.

"And his brother," Michael added. He looked at her sharply. "Are you involved in the kidnapping?"

Mary laughed softly and put away her gun. She pulled a card out of her wallet and said, "Of course I am. I'm trying to solve it." She held the card steadily in front of the officers. "Mary Swanson, FBI."

 


	10. A Roller Coaster and a Call

Frank awoke groggily, his head pounding. He slowly opened his eyes and realized that he was in some sort of construction site. Confused, he tried to sit up, but found that his hands were tied tightly behind his back and his ankles were bound together with rope. A gag was in his mouth, making speech impossible.

Then he saw something that made his heart stop-Joe was propped up against a large wooden beam, no more than two feet away, and he looked horrible! He had a black eye, and bruises covered his face. A gigantic, bloody knot was on the side of Joe's head, almost at his temple. His eyes were closed, and Frank had no way of knowing if he was okay or not.

At that moment, heavy footsteps could be heard. not too far away, and seconds later, Chuck stepped into the room.

'Chuck! I knew it!' Frank thought desperately to himself, struggling vainly to escape his bonds.

As the criminal came closer, Joe slowly opened his eyes, and Frank was horrified to see the pain-filled look in those sapphire depths. Joe stared at Frank as if he was from another planet. Frank knew that his brother was surprised to see him there.

"Well, glad to see you've both joined me," Chuck said, grinning evilly. Joe shifted his horrified gaze from Frank and stared at Chuck, obviously scared out of his wits. Frank couldn't blame him-this guy was insane!

"Well, now that you're both together and conscious," Chuck said, sneering at Joe, "it's time for some real fun. Have either of you realized where you are being held?" He paused, cocking his head as if he expected an answer, then continued. "This is where the newest roller coaster is being built. They already have made most of the tracks, and that's a good thing. You want to know why? Because those roller coaster tracks are going to play a big part in my revenge against your father."

Chuck smirked at the boys, then turned to Frank. "Your brother here has caused me quite a bit of grief," the villain informed him. Despite their situation, Frank felt pride well up inside him at his little brother. He knew that Joe was excellent at giving people grief, and that he had been right in thinking that Joe would fight back with all he had. But now, glancing at his little brother, Frank realized that Joe was pretty bad off. He didn't have much fight left in him.

"Yes, a lot of grief," Chuck went on. "He escaped and nearly ruined my cover and my plan. You see, I was going to dispose of him and then come after you, Frankie. Then I was going to kill you, and make your father suffer at the loss of his two boys. But your brother's annoying antics and your snooping around has changed all that. You see, Frank, I'm not going to kill you. After I'm finished here, I'm going to leave you here for your father to find and then skip town. I want you and your father to suffer. You've all caused me grief, but since Joey here seems to be the most troublesome Hardy kid, I'm going to kill him, and leave you two to suffer!"

Frank and Joe exchanged frightened glances. But Chuck wasn't finished yet. "Before you die, Joe, I want you to know me for who I really am. I am Sampson Black."

A gear suddenly clicked in Frank's mind. Sampson Black, he realized, was a serial killer his dad put in jail a long while back. A life sentence, no chance of parole. No wonder this guy was bitter. His whole life had been ruined, and he blamed it on Fenton. 'But it wasn't Dad's fault,' Frank thought, 'it was his own. He was the one who made that decision to become a killer. He ruined his own life.' But Frank knew there would be no convincing Black of that.

"Now that we're all acquainted, let's get ready for the ride of your life, Joe," Black said, an evil glint in his eyes. He sliced the bonds on Joe's ankles, and Frank was appalled at the bloody scars on his brother's feet from the knife. Black yanked Joe to his feet, but the young captive wavered unsteadily. Black sneered and taunted, "Joey's not as tough as his daddy. He can't take a beating." And as if to prove his point, he drew back his fist and punched Joe in the gut. The boy grunted in pain and staggered back. Frank jumped and struggled to free himself.

"Oh, poor Frank doesn't like seeing baby brother get hurt," Black said. "I definitly made the right choice. Killing this brat and leaving you to suffer would be worse for you than if I killed you, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Black grabbed Joe by the hair and dragged him a ways down the track, still in Frank's line of vision. Then he shoved Joe down onto the track and pulled ropes out of his pockets.

Joe realized what was happening and struggled as best he could in his condition to free himself. Black slapped him and continued binding him to the track. Soon he stood up, and Joe was left lying spread eagled on the tracks, each wrist and ankle bound to separate parts of the track. Frank felt his eyes well up with tears at the sight of his little brother in such a horrible position.

Black pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and knelt beside Joe. He ripped Joe's gag out, saying, "You yell, or say anything to your father about where you're at, and you'll die here and now. I won't even wait for the roller coaster car to run you over you." He then dialed a number, and shoved the phone up to Joe's ear.

"Hello?" came the frazzled voice of Fenton Hardy.

"Dad?" Joe croaked; it hurt for him to speak; he had nothing to drink in a long while.

"Joe! Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad," Joe lied. "Please...don't worry..."

Black snatched up the phone and hissed, "Remember me? Your kid's going to take the ride of his life-the last ride of his life." He then hung up. Black ruffled Joe's hair. "I'm gonna miss you, kid," he said, smirking. Then he went to the control room and started the roller coaster. Joe closed his eyes and waited for the impact as the car began rolling down the tracks toward his immobile body...

 


	11. A Gunshot, a Yell, and a Screech

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the impact of the car. Suddenly he heard a gunshot, a yell, and a screeching sound. He opened his eyes to see Samson Black hunched over, clutching a wounded shoulder. The blonde girl from the diner was standing next to the controls, her hand clutching the lever the lever that controlled the car. Three police officers stood by her, one with his gun drawn and pointing at Black Joe paled, seeing that the car was not two inches from his body. He had escaped death by two inches.

As the officers watched, Black slumped into a dead faint. As the officers moved in to grab him, he suddenly jumped up and, whipping out his own gun with his uninjured arm, sent a bullet at one officer's shoulder. The other two turned to their companion, only to find that the bullet had merely grazed it. But that one second was enough. Black chortled evilly. He then turned his gun on Joe. The youth began struggling frantically with his bonds, knowing what was about to happen.

"Things didn't turn out quite the way I planned," Black sneered, crouching and pointing his gun at Joe's head, "but that doesn't matter, because no matter what, my revenge will be complete! I'm killing you now, Joseph Hardy, and there is nothing you can do about it!"

As he squeezed the trigger, Mary leapt from the control room and knocked him aside. But it was too late. Black fired a shot, but when Mary jumped on Black, his hand was knocked aside, and the bullet hit Joe in the shoulder, avoiding the killing blow to the head.

Joe's shoulder exploded in pain as the bullet ripped through his flesh. He let out an involuntary cry of pain as he was pulled into the black abyss that was unconsciousness.

Frank jumped as he saw the bullet tear into his brother's shoulder, and blood begin to soak through his shirt. He wanted to scream "Joe!" and rush to his brother's aid, but was unable to.

While Mary slapped handcuffs on Black, and sent in for medical attention for the criminal and an ambulance for Joe, two of the officers rushed to Joe and cut the ropes binding him to the track. The remaining officer, Tim, went to Frank and helped untie him.

As soon as he was free, Frank ran to his brother's side. "How is he? Will he be okay?"

Mary came up and put a hand on his shoulder. "We won't know for sure until the paramedics arrive. Until then, the only thing we can do is hope for the best."

Frank stared at his brother's unmoving form and closed his eyes, trying to block out the bloody shoulder and pale face. 'You've got to be okay, Joe. You've just got to. I can't live without you, Joe," Frank thought. 'I love you.'

 


	12. A Heart Monitor, a Bullet, and a Tragedy

It had been over two hours since Joe had been admitted to the hospital, and still, there was no news. Frank was worriedly pacing the floor of the waiting room, Vanessa and Callie were fighting back tears as they sat side by side in hard plastic chairs, and Fenton was sitting in a chair, his face buried in his cupped hands.

Suddenly he stood up. "I can't believe it," he said. Frank looked at his father and managed a weak smile. "It'll be alright, Dad. Joe'll be okay. He's been in scrapes before. He's been in the hospital many times."

"Maybe so, son, but never from a bullet. Frank-he was shot! And I could have-should have-prevented it. Frank-even shoulder wounds can be fatal sometimes. If Joe doesn't-I mean, if he- well, I'll never forgive myself."

Frank felt tears fill his eyes as he said, "Dad, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Black was deranged. Mental. Angry. It had nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, Mr. Hardy," Vanessa put in. "You're the best father anyone could ask for. Joe knows that. And trust me, he won't blame you."

Seeing his father fall to pieces like this was something Frank never thought possible. He was about to say something to help him, but before he could, a tall, skinny woman in a nurse's uniform came into the room. "Fenton Hardy?"

Fenton, Frank, Vanessa, and Callie all jumped up. "How is Joe?" Frank demanded.

"Hold on," the nurse said. "Let's go into my office so I can explain the situation to you."

Once they were all seated in the office, the nurse, who's nametag read "Shirley", said, "Now, about Joe." She paused for a moment, looking each person in the eye. "Okay, I suppose I should just come out with it. Things aren't looking to great for Joe right now."

"What?" Fenton said.

"But I thought it was just a minor shoulder wound," Frank sputtered. "That's what the paramedics said when the ambulance-"

"I know," Shirley admitted. "That's what they thought. But when the bleeding wouldn't stop, we realized that the bullet hit a major blood vessel in his shoulder. He is bleeding internally as well as externally. On top of that, the places where he was cut by the knife and the rope burns have become infected, as well as the bullet wound. He is running a fever of 104.6 at this very moment. He has multiple bruises, and has a slight concussion. He has yet to regain consciousness. I believe that with the right treatment, he will pull through just fine."

Fenton had turned a ghastly shade of green, while all the color had drained out of Frank's face. Silent tears rolled down the girls' cheeks.

"When can we see him?"

"He's in ICU right now. Only family members are allowed to visit right now. I'm sorry, girls."

"It's all right," Vanessa managed to say. "Callie and I will just wait."

"No you won't," Frank countered. "You girls must be exhausted. You go back to the hotel and get some rest. You can come back to the hospital tomorrow morning."

They reluctantly agreed.

"Oh, Mr. Hardy, there's one more thing," Shirley said. "The bullet is buried deep within Joe's flesh. It is impossible to remove without surgery, but we can't operate until he has regained consciousness."

"Okay."

Soon Frank and Fenton were being led to room 234, in ICU. A large sign said "Joe Hardy" outside the door. Hearts pounding, father and son gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. Frank's heart nearly stopped as he saw his baby brother lying motionless on the hospital bed, an IV beeping loudly beside him. A heart monitor was beside the bed. Joe's face was ghostly pale. His wrists and ankles were bandaged. Large welts and bruises stood out profusely all over his unmoving body, and there was a huge knot on the back of his head.

"Son," Fenton whispered, striding forward and grasping his youngest son's hand. Frank followed, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

There was a silent fight over who was going to stay with Joe. When Frank pleaded solemnly with his father, tears streaming down his face, Fenton finally gave in.

"All right," he said. "But just for tonight."

Frank sat in a chair by his brother's bed, and placed his hand on Joe's forehead. He instantly drew it back, appalled by the burning feeling that reached his hand. At that moment, the heart monitor started beeping crazily. The lines started moving up and down randomly. Then, to Frank's horror, the readings shut down completely.

He leapt across the room and pressed the call button. A nurse ran in almost instantly. "The heart monitor stopped its readings! There's nothing but a flat line here!"

The nurse reached over and pressed an emergency button. Several doctors raced into the room.

"What does it mean?" Frank asked, frantic.

A doctor stood up from the heart monitor machine, her eyes clouding with tears. "I'm so sorry to tell you this, Frank," she said, "but your brother is dead."

 


	13. A Flower and a Funeral

"Dead?" the words echoed from Frank's lips as he stared unbelievingly at the doctor. "Dead? No, it can't be true!"

Without warning, the young man sprung forward, and pushing aside anyone who got in his way, raced to his brother's side. "Joe!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Joe, can you hear me? You're still alive...you have to be! Joe!"

Frank watched his brother with bated breath, searching for some sign of life. A slight moan. A shift of a hand. Those stunning blue eyes flickering open. But there was nothing. Depression, anger, fear, and grief welling up inside him, Frank felt for a pulse. There was none. Knowing it was pointless, but willing to try nonetheless, he felt for a breath on his brother's lips. When nothing happened, Frank flung himself onto his lifeless brother's chest, sobbing uncontrollably into the hospital blankets.

The doctors and nurses watched the scene with breaking hearts. The boy was so young, only seventeen. Much, much too young to die. And his brother—the two were so close. This was so crushing for him.

One of the nurses turned to the doctor that had delivered the news. "What did you think you were doing?" he spat.

"What do you mean?" the doctor, whose name was Angel, said.

"You know perfectly well what I mean. You should not have told the young man that his brother is dead. You needed to tell the father first and let him break the news to his son. It would be much less painful that way. Plus, it's hospital policy."

Dr. Angel's eyes narrowed as she said, "I know the policy, Ricky. I just don't think it's fair to Frank that I lie to him when he asks me what happens. He did watch his brother die."

"Well, either way," said another nurse, Shirley, "we need to get Frank out of here and call Fenton. Then we need to get the body out of here. I suppose Fenton will make the arrangements for the funeral himself. It's so sad, isn't it? Their whole family will be absolutely broken hearted."

"Yes, I know," Angel said. "Horrible, just horrible, isn't it?"

* * *

Fenton had just fallen asleep in Frank's hotel room when the phone rang. Getting up groggily, he picked up the phone and said, "Yes?"

"Mr. Hardy?"

"Yes, that's me," Fenton said. "Who is this?"

"This is Doctor Angel from the hospital."

"Oh, hello. Is everything alright? Has Joe regained consciousness yet?"

"Actually, Mr. Hardy, I've some bad news."

Fenton gripped the receiver tightly. "What's wrong?"

"It pains me greatly to inform you of this, Mr. Hardy, but...Joe had a relapse. He's dead."

"DEAD?" Mr. Hardy yelled, head spinning. "That's not true."

"That's the same thing your son said, Mr. Hardy."

"Oh no! Frank! Is he alright?"

"He broke down when he found out his brother was dead. We had to pry him away from the body. Right now he's in one of the nurse offices with Shirley. She's trying to calm him down. I'm so sorry for your lost, Mr. Hardy. You should probably come right away."

"Yes of course. Thanks for telling me," Fenton said, voice wavering. As soon as the doctor had hung up, he fell to his knees gasping. "Please no!" he cried. "Please don't let this be happening! Not Joe!"

Finally he regained his composure somewhat, and still overwhelmed with grief and numb with disbelief, headed for the door. Suddenly, he remembered Laura and his sister, Gertrude. They would have to know! So would the girls. He resolved to go to the hospital first, get Frank, and have Joe's body taken back to Bayport where the funeral would take place. Then he would get the girls and tell them the news. Afterwards, he would call Laura and break the horrible truth to her.

Fenton hurried to his car, tears spilling down his cheeks. Joe...dead...

He couldn't believe it. His seventeen year old son, gone. That hotheaded, impetuous kid he had raised, dead. Tears clouded his vision as he struggled to remain focused on the road.

Soon he was at the hospital. Walking inside, he was greeted by several nurses. "Mr. Hardy," the one named Ricky said, "I'm so sorry. Your son is waiting for you in Shirley's office. Right this way, sir."

Fenton's heart broke even more as he saw his eldest (and now, his only) son sitting in a plastic chair, head buried in his hands, sobs racking his muscular form. Fenton strode over and gently touched him on the shoulder.

Frank looked up, revealing bloodshot eyes and tears running down his cheeks. "Dad," he said in a hoarse voice. "Joe's..."

"I know, son," Fenton said in a strained voice. "I know."

He pulled Frank to his feet and hugged him tighter than Frank had ever thought possible. "Don't worry, son. Joe's in a better place now." His voice choked as he said, "We'll get through this somehow...someday."

"No we won't," Frank countered. "How can you even say that?"

"I don't know, Frank. I honestly don't know."

* * *

Three days later, they were all back in Bayport. The procession to the funeral was a sad one. The first people to arrive, naturally, were the Hardys. Laura's eyes were bloodshot and dark circles were under them. Aunt Gertrude seemed to have shrunk, seeing that she stooped much more when she walked down the aisle to the coffin. Fenton and Frank followed, both worn and grief stricken. Several family friends assembled in, including a grave-faced Con Riley, red eyed Sam Radley, and a sad Chief Collig.

Then came the Hardys' friends. Chet Morton came in, eyes puffy and bloodshot. He came up to Frank and clapped him on the back. "I'm so sorry, buddy," he murmured. "Trust me, I know just how you feel."

Just a few months ago, Chet's sister, Iola, had died in a car bombing.

Then came Callie and Vanessa. The girls were sobbing uncontrollably, especially Vanessa. They fell into Frank's arms. "Frank, I can't believe this happened," Callie muttered.

"I'll never live through this," Vanessa wailed.

It was too much for Frank. Without another word, he broke free and raced out of the church, only to be met at the door by Biff Hooper, Jerry Gilroy, Phil Cohen, and Tony Prito. All had been great friends of Joe's.

Frank sat on the pew next to his parents and Callie, trying to hear what the preacher was saying. He only caught a few phrases. The one that stood out most profusely was, "At only seventeen years of age, Joe Hardy was taken away in the flower of his youth."

Frank recalled that the minister had said almost the exact same thing at Iola's funeral.

After the service, all headed to the graveyard for the burial. Frank was sobbing uncontrollably as he saw the coffin lid nailed shut over top his baby brother.

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as the coffin was lifted, then lowered into the ground.


	14. A Visit, a Knock, and a Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some poetic license in this story. I know some of the things that happen are not possible (I watched the episode of Mythbusters about it) but I wrote this story before the term RESEARCH had entered my vocabulary. As this story is several years old and I do not feel like modifying it any further, I stick to my "poetic license" theory. If you have a problem with me making the impossible happen, talk to my people. :)

Frank awoke the morning after the funeral, feeling more depressed than he had ever been in his life. At first, he couldn't remember why he was feeling so grief-stricken. But then it all came back to him...the gunshot...the hospital...the funeral...Joe...gone...

Blinking back tears, Frank forced himself out of bed and got dressed. He was about to go downstairs when he heard a strange noise coming from Joe's room. He quietly walked through the bedroom that connected the boys' rooms. As he came to the door and peered in, he realized the noise was his mother sobbing.

She was sitting on Joe's bed, holding his pillow, the one he had rested his head on so many times in his life, rocking back and forth. Frank wanted to go in, comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything. He himself was so full of grief that he knew any attempts to console anyone else would be pointless.

He spun around and raced down the stairs, where his father was sitting at the kitchen table. "Good morning, son," he said. His eyes were red from crying and his voice was strained. All color and life seemed to have drained out of his usually animated face.

Without replying, Frank grabbed his jacket and said, "I'm going for a walk."

Fenton consented with a slight nod of his head. He didn't even bother to inquire as to where Frank was going. He already knew.

Frank started down the street, head down and his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Memories flashed through his mind; all the great times he and Joe had shared. All the dangers they had faced. Frank had always known, deep down, that danger might kill one of them someday...but not this soon...not now...and not Joe.

Frank had always been the overly protective brother. A slight smile began to form as he recalled all the times Joe would whine about how annoying he was.

The smile faded away as quickly as it had formed.  _I suppose I wasn't as protective as I should have been,_ Frank thought.

He knew that there really was nothing he could have done, but still, he felt like it was his fault that Joe was gone.

Frank was pulled from his thoughts as he reached the entrance to the graveyard. He silently made his way to his brother's grave. Tears pouring down his face, he knelt beside the place where Joe was buried. "I'm so sorry, little brother," he whispered. "I love you."

"Hey." Frank spun around, only to see Biff Hooper and Chet Morton standing behind him.

"Hi," Frank responded, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"Man, we're so sorry this happened," Biff said, his voice breaking. "Joe was—Joe was an amazing person. And he was lucky to have a brother like you. Man, you gave him the best years of his life. You were always there for him when it counted—even when it didn't count."

Frank stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"We kind of heard what you just said," Chet admitted, his chubby face turning a light shade of pink. "But c'mon, Frank, don't blame yourself."

"I just—I just can't believe that he's really gone," Frank muttered, staring at the headstone, which read:

_Joe Hardy_

_Died age 17_

_Ace Detective_

_Amazing Friend_

_Loving Son_

_Incredible Brother_

_Rest in Peace_

"I know, Frank, it's so wrong," Chet agreed. "I remember when Iola died." He paused, stealing a look at Frank. "But—maybe now they're finally together."

This was too much for Frank. Not caring if his friends saw, he fell to his knees and sobbed. All of a sudden, he sat up straight, listening.

"Frank, what is it?" Biff asked a bit hesitantly. It was amazing to see Frank break down like that. Frank was always so cool, calm, and level-headed. But he knew how close Frank and Joe had been. It was understandable.

Frank whipped around, tears still shining on his face. "Shhh!" he hissed. "D'ya hear that?"

Chet and Biff looked at each other and shrugged.

"I heard a knocking sound!" Frank said.

Suddenly, they heard it. A knocking sound, faint at first, but growing louder by the second.

"Where's it coming from?" Biff asked in amazement.

Frank put his head to the ground and then lifted it back up. "I know this sounds impossible," he said slowly, hardly daring himself to believe it, "but it sounds like it's coming from Joe's grave."

"Maybe it's a ghost!" Chet squealed, glancing nervously around him.

"Stop being ridiculous!" Biff spat. "Even if ghosts were real, then do you really think Joe's ghost would want to hurt us? We were his friends, remember?"

Frank was ignoring the entire conversation, his heart pounding madly. The knocking noises were growing fainter. But they were still there. And now he was positive they were coming from Joe's grave.

"Guys!" Frank yelled, sprinting up so fast that they jumped.

"Don't do that," Chet complained. "You nearly gave me a heart attack—oops," he said, looking at Frank apologetically.

"Guys, I know this sounds impossible, but that noise is coming from Joe's grave!"

"Are you trying to suggest that he's alive?" Biff said uncertainly. "That's impossible."

"I know. But there's something down there that's knocking. And we're gonna find out what it is. Chet, you go get Chief Collig. Tell him to bring some men down to the graveyard. Biff, you grab the grave diggers and call the paramedics—just in case. I'm getting Mom and Dad. There's something down there. Something alive. And I won't rest until I find out what it is."

* * *

"Okay, people, this is it!" said Chief Collig. Fenton, Laura, Frank, and Gertrude were all gathered around Joe's coffin, which the grave diggers had just hauled out of the ground. "We don't know what is in here with the body that is making these knocking noises—which, by the way, have ceased to exist—but let's not get our hopes up. We were all there. We attended the funeral. We saw the body. Joe is not alive."

Laura started to cry, clinging to Fenton's arm for support.

The grave diggers slowly, systematically, began to remove the nails from the lid. Then they pulled open the lid.

Hearts pounding, the audience peered into the coffin. Nothing, save for the body.

"Maybe I was imagining things," Frank said, staring at the unmoving form of his brother. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Just as the diggers were about to nail the lid back on, Frank yelled for them to stop.

"What is it?" Collig said.

"Look!" Frank breathed. Everyone sucked in their breath.

Joe's hand shifted, just a few centimeters. A low moan escaped his lips. Then those sapphire eyes fluttered open. Looking up, he saw his family around him. "Frank?" he whispered.

Frank stood astounded. He didn't know how it was possible, but Joe was alive!

 


	15. A Hospital, a Doctor, and an Arrest

"Joe!" Frank breathed. "You're alive?" He and his family were astounded, but not too amazed to leap forward and start to help him up. Joe gasped in pain, and they reluctantly set him back down inside the coffin.

Joe stared at them all, his face a mask of confusion. "What happened?" he whispered. He started to tremble all over. "Why am I in a coffin? Why did—" his voice wavered, "—why did I wake up underground?"

Before anyone could say anything, the paramedics pushed through. "Step aside, please," they ordered.

Carefully lifting Joe, they placed him on a stretcher and strapped him in. He was immediately given an oxygen mask. When Frank asked why, he was told that Joe had been underground for nearly twenty-four hours. He had little oxygen left when they found him.

They began to load Joe into the stretcher, and Frank ran up to them. "Can I ride with Joe?" he asked, eyes pleading.

The paramedics considered this for a moment, then one of them slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, son," he said, "but we're going to need room to work on Joe."

Frank joined his parents and together, they began to drive to the hospital.

In the emergency waiting room, the family began to discuss the strange and wonderful happenings.

"How was this possible?" Laura said, glancing from Frank to her husband. Biff and Chet were also there, along with Callie and Vanessa, who had been astounded by the news that Joe was still alive.

"He didn't die," Fenton said thoughtfully. "But he looked dead. He seemed to fool everyone."

"But he couldn't have fooled the doctors," Frank said.

"Exactly," Fenton agreed. "I have a feeling that someone in that hospital wanted Joe dead. They didn't just want him to die from the gunshot though, they wanted him to suffer."

"I see what you're saying," Callie said, "but how would they do such a thing?"

"Yeah, I mean somebody was bound to notice that he wasn't dead. One of the other doctors or something," Chet put in.

At that moment, a doctor came up to the group. "Joe is conscious," he informed them. "He's in ICU right now, so, once again, only family members can see him today. Sorry guys."

"That's fine," Biff said. He smiled warmly at the Hardys'. "Tell Joe we'll be up to see him as soon as possible."

"And tell him I love him," said Vanessa.

After they had left, the doctor continued. "He has been taken off the oxygen mask, but he is still in a lot of pain. The infection has returned, full force, and he is running a temperature of 102.3 right now. When we get it down (and we're giving him medicine for it through an IV right now, since he is unable to keep anything down at the moment), and hopefully it will be tomorrow, if he is stable, we'll bring him into surgery. Once we remove the bullet, it'll be a long recovery, and quite possibly, a pretty traumatic one as well. It's not often that someone gets buried alive like that. He'll probably have to stay here for a week, a week and a half, something like that. That is, unless he has a relapse, which I think is extremely unlikely. Any questions?"

"Can we see him now?" Frank asked, eager to see his little brother again.

"Right this way, room 194 on the first floor, ICU wing. Only one person can stay the night with him, and visiting hours are over in fifteen minutes."

"Frank, you can stay with him tonight," Fenton said. "There's something I want to check out tonight about what happened to Joe."

"What is it?" Frank asked eagerly, as they approached Joe's door.

"I'll tell you later," Fenton promised, as he opened the door.

Joe was leaning back in bed, eyes closed. He didn't look near as bruised as he had at the first hospital, but Frank figured that he had healed up a bit before he had "died". His face was a deathly pale, and there was an IV beside him. To Frank's immense relief, there was no sign of a heart monitor anywhere.

"Joe?" he said, striding forward, his parents by his side. They each took a seat by Joe's bed. The youth's eyes slowly opened. "Frank? Mom? Dad?" he said. "What happened?"

Frank leaned forward and gave his brother a loving embrace. Laura kissed him lovingly on the head, and

Fenton did a combination of both. "We're so glad you're okay," Frank said, his eyes beginning to fill up.

"I—we—thought you really were dead—everyone did."

"I'm okay," Joe said. "I was just wondering how long it was going to take you to figure it out." Despite

Joe's attempt at humor, Frank could see that something was still haunting him.

"It must have been terrifying, waking up to that," Frank said.

"It was," Joe said, voice trembling, making his family look at him with sorrow. "At first I didn't know what had happened. But then I looked around and realized that I was in a coffin—buried. I didn't know what to do. But then, I heard footsteps." Joe's voice was hardly more than a whisper. "I realized that someone was walking above me. So I did the only thing I could think of. I knocked on the lid of the coffin. After a while, I became really tired, and I blacked out. I guess I must have been running low on oxygen. But when you guys pulled me out, the fresh air must have awakened me. Then I think I lost consciousness again on the ride to the hospital. I woke up here. But how did you find me?"

"Just dumb luck, I guess," Frank said, shuddering at the thought of what would have happened to Joe if he hadn't come to the graveyard when he had. "I was feeling absolutely horrible when I woke up this morning. I decided to go and visit your..." he faltered, glancing at Joe.

"My grave," Joe finished. "Go on," he prompted.

"Right...well...Biff and Chet had the same idea, and we all met up there. I heard you knocking...and well...you know the rest."

A nurse came in and announced that visiting hours were over. "Joe, before I go," Fenton said seriously,

"I need you to answer one thing for me. What is the last thing you remember before you woke up in the coffin?"

Joe screwed up his face as he tried to think. "Uhhh...oh, wait! It was really weird. I remember that I was just starting to wake up in that other hospital. This doctor...I think her nametag said 'Angel', was coming toward me. She had this shot in her hand, and she was coming toward me. She saw that I was awake and said something like, 'Well, hello Joseph...I hope you're not afraid of the dark, because it's going to be real dark when you wake up.' Then she injected me and I blacked out."

Fenton looked angry and was about to respond when a doctor came in. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy? Good, I was hoping I could catch you before you left. Ah, hello, Joseph," he said, eyes twinkling, "how are you feeling?"

"Better," Joe said.

"Why don't you go ahead and check his vital signs while I talk to Mr. and Mrs. Hardy...oh, you must be his brother, Frank," the doctor said. His nametag read, "Dr. Fred." "Joe's mentioned you countless times. Is it alright if Frank hears this too? I believe he'd find it very interesting and it gives an explanation for the eerie happenings lately."

"Of course," said Fenton and Laura in unison.

The foursome stepped out in the hall, and Dr. Fred said, "On the ride to the hospital, a blood sample was taken. We've had it tested and have the results. It seems that he had a drug in his system that makes breathing extremely shallow, so shallow that he doesn't seem to be breathing at all. It also makes the pulse so weak, you are unable to feel it."

"That explains a lot," Frank muttered.

"However," Fred went on, "there was no way a doctor could have overlooked it."

"Just as I thought," Fenton said. "Will that be all, Doctor?"

"Yes, as soon as the nurse comes back with the results of his vitals."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to go on and leave for the other hospital. I have a hunch that I want to investigate. Laura, you don't mind staying in the waiting room for a little while, do you?"

"You know what, since Joseph is doing so well right now, Mrs. Hardy, you can stay as well as Frank. Just don't let any of my colleagues know. They might think I'm going soft on the patients." With a wink, and a promise to let them know if anything else turns up, Dr. Fred bustled off.

Fenton left too, promising to let his wife and sons know what was going on the minute something big happened.

Joe's temperature had shot down from 102.3 to 100.2. The nurse said the surgery could take place the next day.

Later that night, as Joe was slumbering on the hospital bed, Laura sleeping on the rollaway bed, and

Frank sitting next to Joe, eyes open, watching his little brother sleeping, while rubbing his hand with his thumb, the phone rang.

Frank sat up and grabbed it. "Hello?"

Fenton Hardy's voice answered. He sounded elated. "Doctor Angel Montgomery has been arrested for the attempted murder of Joseph Hardy."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked quietly, trying not to awake his mother or brother. "How?"

"I can't give you all the details right now, but I'll tell you all the full story tomorrow after Joe's surgery, so

he can hear to. But I will say this: she was working for Black and she was his girlfriend."

"I figured she had something to do with it," Frank said, "but not that she was so personally involved."

They chatted for a while longer before they hung up.

Frank squeezed Joe's hand. "You're safe, baby brother," he whispered, then added, "for now at least."

He chuckled, then leaned back to get the first somewhat peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time.

 


	16. A Query, an Answer, and a Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've stuck with me this far, thanks for reading. Again, I took some poetic license with this story, so pretty much everything that happened in the last few chapters is basically impossible... But, like I said, I wrote this in 2006/07 and research was kind of a foreign concept for me when it came to fan-fictions, for some reason.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed; let me know what you thought, or simply click the Kudos button if you liked it! :)

Frank sat in Joe's hospital room the next day, debating over something that had been gnawing at his mind all night. "It just doesn't make sense," he muttered under his breath.

Joe stirred on the bed, having heard what Frank had said. "What doesn't make sense?"

"Oh, you're awake. How're you feeling? D'you need anything? I can call the doctor, if you want."

Joe smiled weakly, and tried to push himself up on the bed. Frank jumped up and raised it. Joe nodded thanks, and then said, "No, I'm good. Just happy to be alive and above ground."

Whether he meant this to be funny or not, Frank didn't know, but he didn't find it humorous at all. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yep. Never better." Joe grinned. "So, what's on your mind?"

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Well, you know how I told you earlier that Dr. Angel was arrested?"

"Yeah."

"Well…I don't know if I should really be talking to you about this, you know, after all you've been through."

Joe looked Frank directly in the eyes. "I'm okay," he said. "What's up?"

"Well, when people die…" Frank stole a quick glance at Joe, whose expression did not change, "…aren't they embalmed? I mean, when you…ahem…'died' per say, why weren't you embalmed? Dad arranged the funeral and everything…I, oh gosh, I'm sorry Joe!"

Joe had leaned back on the pillow, eyes closed, looking paler than before.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "Not your fault. Got a headache, that's all. And honestly, I don't know the answer to your question…"

"But I do." The boys jumped as their father made his way into the room. "Joe, it's good to see you," he said, tears in his eyes. He embraced his youngest son, and said, "I talked to the guy who was supposed to do the embalming. He said he got a call right before he was going to begin the procedure. He said it was from someone who said she was Joe's mother. From the description of the voice, I'm almost positive it was Dr. Angel. Anyway, 'Mrs. Hardy' told him that embalming was not necessary. It was a family tradition from way back, before the Hardys even immigrated to America, to burn the dead, and not embalming them. They just needed to be prepared otherwise, you know, dressed up, uh…just ready for the final words before he was burned. The man was hesitant, but went along. So that's the deal with that."

"Okay, that woman was—is—twisted!" Frank spat, looking at his little brother compassionately. "So is Black."

"I agree," Joe said. "I'm just glad they're behind bars."

"And I'm just glad I have my little brother back."

"Thanks for having my back."

"Always," Frank said quietly. "Always. Always, and forever."

And Joe knew without a doubt that every bit was true. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, knowing his brother would be by his side every moment. He always was.

**THE END**

 


End file.
